Growing up in New England in the 1950s, I saw lots of chopped and channeled coupes and roadsters. That term, “chopped and channeled,” had a nice ring to it. It seemed to me to define a real hot rod, so it’s what I aspired to own. Fred Steele’s purple ’32 Ford from the Boston area ticked those boxes, as did another memorable lowboy from Los Angeles that had a cameo role on a very popular TV sitcom.
The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet began as a radio show in the ’40s and segued into television in the ’50s. Ozzie was your typical salaryman; Harriet was a homemaker; and their two sons, David, the older, and Ricky, four years younger, were cast as all- American boys. The series got a big lift when Ricky (his real name was Eric) became a teen heartthrob. He played guitar and sang, and his natural good looks and decent, if a bit nasal, voice boosted ratings. Ricky’s many rock ’n’ roll hits, like “Travelin’ Man,” “Poor Little Fool,” and “Be-Bop Baby,” gave the show legs beyond its ​simplistic family theme.
David and Ricky Nelson were hardly car enthusiasts, but hot rod B movies were booming in this era, so it wasn’t long before one of the writers developed a hot rod plot line. There wasn’t time (or interest) to have the brothers build a car, but somehow, a little green roadster made its way into at least one episode of the show. (We didn’t know it was green. TV was black and white in those days.)
Legend has it young Ricky desperately wanted to buy the roadster with some of his TV show and concert earnings. Reportedly, he was making $100,000 annually, but his allowance was restricted, and his frugal dad allegedly refused to give him the money, saying, “No 1932 Ford is worth $3,500.”
Ray’s Roadster
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة January 2020 من Hot Rod Deluxe.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 9,000 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك ? تسجيل الدخول
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة January 2020 من Hot Rod Deluxe.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 9,000 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك? تسجيل الدخول
Cal, Nick & T-33
REBORN.
Backstage Past Part 10:1963
This Glendale, California, photo session produced the Bob D’Olivo (behind camera, right) transparency that became one of HOT ROD’s most-artistic covers.
Travellin Deuce
A stock height windshield, in conjunction with a body that’s been channeled the full width of the frame, gives the ex–De Fillipi/La Masa ’32 roadster a chunky, almost perky appearance. Discrete lakes pipes peek out beneath the framerails, just behind the firewall. In the mid-’50s, the lakes plugs exited (curiously) in front of the rear wheels.
back to basics
bountiful. the ’32 ford has become the quintessential hot rod, thanks to its good looks and the fact that the model year coincided with ford’s release of a v-8 engine in addition to the reliable four-cylinder.
Nothing Screwy About It
In this space in the Sept. ’16 issue I wrote about several topics, including the Screwdrivers car club of Culver City, California, and whether or not the famous cocktail was named after the club.
Blue Bird
Fathers. The plan was this: My son Sebastian and I had just finished one of many restorations, the Blood Sweat & Gears 1948 Prefect.
Mark of Excellence
Tilt. Somewhere in a small farming town in central Illinois is a garage with a couple of car builders who live in a time warp that starts and ends in the 1960s.
his purple passion
eli english was a grade schooler when he first spotted this '34 couple peering through the open doors of a local garage. thirty years later, he got to work on this period-perfect late-'50s hot rod and put her back on the road.
waterlogged trog
waterlogged trog
